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<title>Dancing in the Moonlight by isaac richard (isaacrichard)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24889426">Dancing in the Moonlight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/isaacrichard/pseuds/isaac%20richard'>isaac richard (isaacrichard)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Mr. Robot (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(LMAO IT IS), (party), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dirty Dancing, End of the World, Hacking, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Season/Series 01, Sexy Dancing, whatever episode the end of the world party is. that's this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:09:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,085</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24889426</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/isaacrichard/pseuds/isaac%20richard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyrell shows up at the End of the World (party) fs0ciety throws to confuse FBI. Robot gets in on it, dawg, and shit gets crazy...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elliot Alderson &amp; Mr. Robot, Elliot Alderson/Mr. Robot/Tyrell Wellick, Elliot Alderson/Tyrell Wellick, Mr. Robot/Tyrell Wellick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dancing in the Moonlight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is the result of me getting really stoned and listening to 70s one hit wonders. as you do.<br/>enjoy</p><p>Song for the whole fucking fic is King Harvest's Dancing in the Moonlight</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> “Move your fuckin’ hips,” Robot grumbles, though it comes from Elliot’s mouth. “Move with me, Swede, c’mon.”</p><p> This song always reminded Elliot of a music box that needed to be oiled, right at the very beginning there. This was the kind of music Edward liked, and it’s not surprising, considering Darlene had to be the one who rigged up the playlist.</p><p> We are all doomed to become our parents, isn't that what they say?</p><p> <em>I don’t know about that. I hope not. </em></p><p>Tyrell groans – he’s aroused, Elliot notes, without any real intention to do anything about it.</p><p> It’s the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine.</p><p> Tyrell’s sweating, and for some reason, Elliot can’t get over it. He’d never seen him outside of an air-conditioned board room – he’d gotten it in his head that Tyrell could never do such a peasant thing such as <em>sweat. </em></p><p> Robot licks it away, and the whole display is crude, but no one’s paying attention. They’re drunk, or fucking, or drunk-and-fucking, or asleep like Darlene, curled up in arcade machines with the End Of The World Party still going on around them.</p><p> He hadn’t expected to find Tyrell here, helping them do away with evidence. But Joanna had apparently been a stranger to him, lately, and he sought warm bodies like anybody else.</p><p> Mr. Robot was attracted to him. More than Elliot was. More than he had any right to be, considering that he was not intended to feel anything close to (in the fucking<em> ballpark</em> of) attraction. His one job was to protect them, him and Elliot and the others – Tyrell didn’t matter.</p><p> And yet.</p><p> Yet.</p><p> “God, can I –“</p><p> <em>He wants to fuck us so bad. He’s fucking crazy for it. </em></p><p>He’s lonely. Aren’t we? Aren’t we all?</p><p> Isn't humanity so lonely, floating on our little green speck?</p><p> </p><p> The low, music-box-like tune starts from the speakers, whiny and echoing in the hollow arcade. Tyrell looks wrecked, and all Robot’s done, up to this point, is slot their hips together so they could sway to the music.</p><p>It was nothing – it was practically a fucking handshake, considering Robot had once had a gun in Tyrell’s mouth, but Tyrell was still whining and crying like Robot already had his dick lined up with Tyrell’s hole – mouth, ass, whichever.</p><p> He was fucking insane, being so out and needy like this.</p><p> Mr. Robot wasn’t helping. And Elliot could do nothing but watch (and feel. And feel. And feel and feel and fee – ).</p><p> </p><p>“<em>We get it… almost, every night</em></p><p>
  <em>When that moon gets big and bright </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s a supernatural delight</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Everybody was dancin’ in the moonlight…” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“I love this song,” Mr. Robot mutters. “They were one-hit wonders, these guys. King Harvest. But it was one damn good hit, right?”</p><p> Tyrell looks at him with the foggiest expression, dreamy-like. Like he can’t believe he’s finally allowed to touch.</p><p> Mr. Robot grins, and it’s unsettling. Elliot had never grinned before, like that, all teeth and no gentle, sloping lips. Tyrell can't find it inside himself to care. He'd take any version of Elliot in a heartbeat.</p><p>This Elliot looked ready to devour, in Tyrell’s mind. And he continued to let himself be enticed, like the frog you put in the warm pot of water. It’d be boiling soon enough, and he’d be caught.</p><p> But it was pleasantly warm, for now.</p><p> “Yes?” Tyrell pants. “I didn’t know you liked anything.”</p><p> “I said love, sweetheart, not like,” Mr. Robot murmurs. He’s leading their strange dance, and Tyrell has no idea how.</p><p><em>The same way he was leading the revolution,</em> Tyrell supposed. <em>By force.</em></p><p> He’s so fucking turned on; it must be obvious. Mr. Robot pretends not to see, and Tyrell is unsure whether that’s a blessing, or a curse. Robot knows how to move, and Elliot just doesn’t understand – <em>he </em>can’t fucking dance like that!</p><p> It’s not perfect, and he stumbles, but the way he carts Tyrell around is <em>smooth, </em>like he weighed nothing at all. One-two-three steps, and then a step forward, and a step back. It isn’t a real dance – they’re just moving bodies among others – but it’s in time with the music, and the heavy breathing of the drunk patrons around them, and Tyrell is losing himself in it.</p><p> In him.</p><p> In the strange hacker who had enveloped his entire heart, or his alter ego, or whoever. The more Angela tried to explain it the more confused Tyrell got, but his mind was not changed. He loved Elliot Alderson, and this just made him feel all the more sure – if he played his cards right, they would be together.</p><p> “You’re thinking too hard,” Robot hisses. “C’mon, Swedish fish. Lose yourself in the music, huh? I told you, I love this fucking song. Was Elliot’s favorite back in the day.”</p><p> <em>I don’t remember that. </em></p><p>I know you don’t, kiddo. But I do.</p><p>
  <em>“We like our fun and we never fight</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You can’t dance and stay uptight </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s a supernatural delight</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Everybody was dancin’ in the moonlight…” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Mr. Robot loses his patience, that he’ll admit – but Tyrell looks so damn startled when he initiates the kiss, he has to stop to laugh.</p><p> “You weren’t expecting this?” he murmurs, chuckling, and Tyrell is ready when their lips meet for the second time, the curve of Elliot’s lips softer than Tyrell would have imagined.</p><p> The image of Elliot Alderson using Chapstick makes him strangely warm – or maybe it was all the vodka he’d been chugging, like a goddamned fish out of water.</p><p> “Oh, God, <em>Elliot –“ </em></p><p> And maybe it’s Elliot and maybe it’s not, the line of control is blurry on both ends. But they’re kissing Tyrell, and it’s nice, and way less weird than either of them imagined.</p><p> And Tyrell kisses back, hard, hungry, desperate. Whining like a child, big blue eyes brimming with grateful tears.</p><p> “I love you,” he sobs. “I love you.<em> Jag älskar dig.</em> I love you.”</p><p> “Please shut <em>up,”  </em>Robot groans. He’s holding Tyrell’s face by the cheeks, they’re both panting. No one is paying any attention, and the music goes on.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Everybody here is out of sight</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They don't bark and they don't bite</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They keep things loose; they keep things light</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Everybody was dancin’ in the moonlight…”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p> “Shut the fuck up if you want this to happen. Listen to the fucking music. Kiss me. Shut up.”</p><p> Tyrell shuts up.</p><p> </p><p>And Elliot thinks, <em>if I had known this would make him quiet, I would have done it ages ago. </em></p><p> </p>
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